


Chasing Hunters and Starlight Skies

by Darkarashi



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Date Night, F/M, Hunter/Hunter/Warlock, I Cannot Stress This Enough: No One Is Dead Shush Be Quiet, Inappropriate Use of Light (Destiny), M/M, Multi, No One's Dead Shush Be Quiet, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Picnics, Post-Red War (Destiny), Stargazing, Threesome - F/M/M, it gets real cute just be warned i'm gunna rot your teeth out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-07-30 14:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkarashi/pseuds/Darkarashi
Summary: A relationship between a Warlock and not one, but two Hunter Vanguards is something hardly anyone in the Tower would ever think would have worked. But, against the assumptions of others, Sherazade, Cayde-6 and Andal Brask have made it work. Their immortal days are spent with each other, around their individual busy work schedules, and on the lucky days they can spend time with each other, on a triad date, outside the boundaries of the walls of the Last City.And when they can, oh do they make the best of it.





	Chasing Hunters and Starlight Skies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Biozonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biozonic/gifts).

The Last City at twilight was…beautiful. As the bastion of hope for the last of the Humans, a welcome reprieve for all those lost in the great wide somewhere of the Universe, it was decorated with the things that made those around them feel comforted and at home. It was different, than it had been before the Collapse. There was nowhere else for the average person born to the Last City to be.

If you were born here, this was where you lived.

And the bustling city life, rebuilding and reviving after the Red War, but…oh, at night, it twinkled. It was not quite proper night yet, but just dark enough to get the lights lit, and lanterns blooming with warm light. The hum of various hardlight, holographic, and neon lights flickering on placed a pleasant, cool counterpoint to the rising rumble of conversation as the nightlife of the city began to come alive.

The sounds and sights and smells were not lost on the Awoken warlock Sherazade. The Red War and the ensuing panic of the Reef and it’s Tangled Shore had taken so much out of so many of them. Things had been fraught for so long, that just standing, leaning over the railing, not too far from her Vanguard, Ikora, looking out over the Awakened Traveler, and the city coming alive made something in her chest ache, like it was over-full.

So much had changed.

Awakening to the Light had been one thing, the loneliness, the burning realization that any choice had been stripped away from her, both in the dignity of her death and her path forward. She had to fight. Like all Guardians, there was something in her that would not let her just _give up_. No matter how bad it had gotten, they had fought. 

It was better now than it had been. She had a sister, two lovers – who were, incidentally, late for date night – a fireteam, things to rebuild and reconnect, both in the rubble of where the Last City still bore the scars of the Red War, and in her own connections. 

Guardians had been scattered to the four winds in the attacks of the Red War. Sherazade, herself, alone, had fled the city, Shayar protectively tucked into the gilded and ornate collar of her Warlock robes as they had desperately ridden a stolen Pike into the unforgiving and brutally dangerous wilds of a world without Light. That...was a whole story for another time, another place. But Warlocks were ever given over to turning inwards, thinking strange and nebulous thoughts. 

After that, the horror of thinking Cayde had  _died_ , had been  _taken_ from them by the ravages of the Scorned threat, the delirium of turning from one battle and diving headlong, full of rage at yet  _another_ battle, another threat to everything she  _ **loved** _ with all the ferocity of the void that constantly clung to the inside of her ribs. 

But.

But. 

The glory and the curse of the Traveler made itself known once again. Cayde, thought dead, and Sundance, thought destroyed, in the same breathless moment, returned. 

And, glorious Cayde, beautiful and handsome and  _ wonderful _ Cayde, daring Cayde, darling Cayde, he had not returned alone. 

No. When Cayde-6 made his return to the Tower after the defeat of Uldren and his Scorned Barons, he returned, the cloak he had worn for what had felt like eons draped over the shoulders of the man it had first belonged to. 

When Cayde-6 returned to the Tower from the clutches of Darkness itself, he returned with Andal Brask. 

There had been such a celebration, and as ecstatic as Sherazade had been to see Cayde-6 returned, there had been a long few days where she had worried that the return of Cayde’s previous lover meant that he would cast her aside. Not cruelly, no, but Sherazade had heard him talk of Andal at length, with the wistfulness of a lover who had only wanted to see the one he cared for so deeply again. She had prepared herself, bracing for the inevitable, when Cayde had asked her to his rooms for a talk. He had the dignity to speak to her face-to-face, but when she had walked in and seen Andal sitting there as well, her confusion had turned, briefly, into anger.

Cayde had been quick to mollify her. And...a conversation happened. One that was confusing at first, for sure. Confusing and provoking and engaging but Cayde had more than enough love in his mechanized heart for the both of them, and did not think it fair that he have to lose Andal, who had awoken with the Traveler, still thinking Cayde his lover, still loving Cayde, nor Sherazade, whom Cayde loved just as fiercely. He had an idea, and like so many of Cayde’s wild, impossible, frantic thoughts, it worked. 

It worked  _ well _ . 

In loving Cayde, Sherazade had of course come to love Andal. Loving Andal, after learning more about him, came as easily and as naturally to her as loving Cayde did. 

But even that love did not stop her from being _slightly_ annoyed that both of them always managed to be late to date night. She was not worried that they were off having a night of their own – Cayde was the Hunter Vanguard and had so much to do every day, and Andal, even as a previous Vanguard had plenty of his own work to do. Much had changed in the Last City. Much and so much more. 

Sherazade sighed, leaning against the railing, smiling to herself. Her inky black hair had gotten longer since the Red War, and she kept it as such now, partially out of remembrance for everything she had been through, and partly because she found she liked it. The thin circlet-headband she wore had gotten a little more ornate as well, a gift from Andal, one of the first courtly-things he had done for her in their relationship. 

It was banded through with the scarlet of the Hunters and twined with the orange usually given to Warlocks, with shimmering bands of purple for her Void-Light. She had liked it, of course she had, and wore it proudly. The rest of her hair was braided back, out of her face, more out of usefulness than vanity. 

It was not that she did not think herself beautiful – she was, her markings showing dark purple against her Awoken-blue-thunderstorming skin. The flickers of light that danced across her flesh, part native bioluminescence, part an effect of how the Light interacted with her native biology were considered by many to be part of the Awoken’s natural allure. She was strong, confident in her quiet way, and she knew it. It was not vanity that gave her this knowledge, but the self-assuredness that came from being a Warlock. They, all of them, considered themselves  _beautiful_ but what that beauty meant was something different to each Warlock. 

So yes, Sherazade thought herself beautiful. And there was no crime in that. 

However, her beauty never interfered with her work, or her passions. Tinkering, tooling about, exploring – testing - 

“How long do you think until she notices us?” 

“Oh, give her a few moments, she’s so cute when she’s thinking Warlock thoughts, isn’t she?”

“Guess it’s good she’s already got her commendation ceremony out of the way, if she spaced out like this during it, I’m sure Zavala would’ve purpled and started in on a lecture.”

“He always had the worst timing. Look at her, it would’ve been cute.” 

“Definitely, but you know how Zavala is...” 

The voices, familiar, laughing, and full of warmth finally got Sherazade to pull herself out of her reminiscing. Smiling, she turned to see Cayde and Andal both standing there. Cayde had his arm around Andal’s waist and was leaning his cheek on Andal’s shoulder. 

She could not – and did not – want to help the smile on her face as she looked at the two of them. The weight of her thoughts lifted, and faced with two Hunters, it was rather impossible to think any manner of Warlock business. There would be time for her thoughts later. Right now, however, it was date night. 

Andal held up a sizeable box, gilded in bronze and greened copper, smiling at her. 

“Cayde and I thought it might be nice to go out on a picnic.”

She lifted an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. 

“You know going outside the boundaries of the Last City for something like a _picnic_ would definitely draw the ire of at least _one_ of the other Vanguards.”

“I won’t tell Zavala, you can use my private exit out of the city. Andal knows where it is,” Ikora says, placidly, not looking up from her work in one of the many, many books she kept in her open-air nook. 

Sherazade flushed. She had forgotten Ikora was there, and had perhaps spoken a bit too openly, but when Ikora flicked her gaze up, away from her books, the Warlock Vanguard offered her a wink and an airy: “Have fun.”

Sherazade gave a polite bow and then, turning back to Cayde and Andal, grinned at the both of them. 

“Ready?”

“We were only waitin’ on you to be, Shera!” Cayde chirped happily, reaching a hand out to take hers. 

If Cayde could have his way, he would be completely twined about the both of them at all times. He was a hugely tactile person, and he loved to be in constant contact with the both of them. Occasionally that made navigating the narrower streets of the Last City hard, as Cayde would inevitably have to decide which of the two of them he wanted to hold hands with. AS far as Shera could tell, he seemed to have an internal counter and clock as to how many times he chose either one of them, because he seemed to alternate nearly perfectly. 

This time, it seemed it was Shera’s turn, as Cayde reluctantly unwound his arm from Andal’s waist. Andal led the way through the winding paths of the Last City, to a hidden staircase through the wall, carefully avoiding and unlocking all the safety measures in place. Ikora was not stupid. An unsanctioned way out of the Last City was a security vulnerability, but it seemed that even in the chaos of the Red War, this path had never been found. 

There were switchbacks, dead ends that were actually not dead ends at all, but cleverly designed and manipulated points of confusion to trap anyone who did not know the way in the labyrinth of the wall of the Last City. 

It took a long while, but finally they were through the last door, and on the outside of the wall. 

Grinning, triumphant, both Hunters looked back to Shera, who was sufficiently impressed for both of them. 

Cayde snatched up Andal’s hand now that space permitted it, and chattering in his usual way, which was...just so endearing, in all honesty, he lead them to his carefully prepared picnic point. It seemed that Andal didn’t know where it was either, leaving Cayde to be happily in charge of the whole endeavor. It was one of the few times he was ever in charge with anything like this, in all honesty. Of the three of them, he was the one most likely to let the others have their way first, even if he was the most boisterous of them. 

The hike to where he had selected as to be “just perfect” for what he had planned was a long one, but it seemed as if no time passed at all, really. The two Hunters were engaging partners, especially when they got to talking about their days. Shera listened, grinning, offering her own observations in her usual quiet, reserved tone. The tone, of course, only made it better when she took her chance to make quips and comebacks, which delighted Andal when it was directed at Cayde, and sent Cayde into hysterics when it was directed at Andal. 

Her heart felt so full in her chest once again, the Void-Light that rumbled like the collapse of an event horizon in her chest blooming wider and deeper at the two of them. 

Finally, they arrived, as announced by a slightly staticky “Ta-daaaa~!!” from Cayde. 

The static belied his nerves. His voice box always got just a slight bit more fried when he was nervous, too much of his energy being routed through it instead of the default processes. 

It was very endearing thing. One of the many aspects of everything that it was to be Cayde-6. Shera smiled a bit too wide for her face, her cheeks aching with it. 

The small campsite Cayde had set up for them was...it was honestly what anyone who knew Cayde well would have expected of him. Quirky, but intensely and immensely skillfully put together. There was a tent large enough for the three of them, a sprawling canopy overhead to keep any inclement weather off of them, more than a few defensible places, just in case an incursion of the Cabal or the Fallen fell upon them. It would be an  _exceptionally_ poor choice for anyone to try, but that didn’t mean that no one would. Opportunities were opportunities. 

It was...nice. The parts that were made for defense were even carefully disguised. Easy to pick out when you knew what you were looking for, but if you let yourself relax it was just a campsite like any other. 

On the other side of Cayde, Andal sighed happily and walked forward, still carrying the box. 

“When you said you’d had some time to prepare, I didn’t think it was going to be like this, Cayde,” he purred affectionately, placing the container down on the ornate embroidered blanket that dominated the center of the camp. 

Cayde, incapable of blushing the way his two organic partners could, still had a tell – reaching up, he brushed a hand across the length of his horn, turned his head down, and the backlights of his mouth, high up in the corners, flashed the brightest orange his lights were capable of. 

“It wasn’t that much, I just thought it be nice…” Cayde said, only a little bashful. 

“I love it Cayde, thank you,” Shera says, leaning in to press a kiss to Cayde’s face. 

His chest whined as something inside of it spun up over-fast in nervousness. Both Andal and Shera chuckled under their breath. It took them a while to settle down and in to their food, the three of them sitting in a loose circle as Andal opened up the box of food. There was hot broth, sauces, spices, meats, noodles, a set of matching three bowls and assorted cutlery for them to make ramen again. 

The broth choices were kept in individual containers, and with a click of a button on the side of each, they started heating to just under a boil. The meat container, with the meats already cooked and ready to consume, was put to heating as the three of them settled in. 

The air was crisp and cold, not quite chilly enough to need a blanket for, but definitely cold enough that all of them were looking forward to the warmth of the ramen. Their conversations were, as they usually were, a gentle back and forth, with the three of them trading places, moving between each other, cuddling close, reaching across to brush fingers across the backs of another’s knuckles, wrist, cheek as the conversation continued. 

“You know we’re both so proud of you, Shera,” Andal said fondly, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “It’s not every day someone gets a Cryptarch’s Commendation, and Master Rahool was certainly eager to have you.”

Shera ducked her head, blushing only slightly at the compliment. She had been working on it for a while, working at making something new and interesting out of the scraps of what remained after the Red War. 

It had been something so small at the beginning, just working on some Cabal tech that had been left over from the invasion and occupation of the Last City – it had been close to the Traveler when it had awoken, and Shera had thought that there would be something interesting in the work that could be done with that. 

She had been right. 

In the waking of the Traveler, in the seeking of a shard of power from a shirked piece of the Traveler, in the new world that the war had brought them, there had been so, so much opportunity. Shera had just taken it for herself. Her tinkering had gained a fervor in the slack time after Cayde had been presumed dead, and she had thrown herself into the engineering that only Warlocks could really do. It was nothing against any of the engineers who had been doing work – she herself was an engineer and tinkerer – but there was something more, in the sorrow of loss and the awakening of the Traveler that had brought about something  _more_ in it. 

Her first few projects she had not bothered presenting to anyone, only building and disassembling them, to get a feel for the ebb and flow of the mechanisms and the emergent properties of them as the Light worked through her, and through them. The whole had always become greater than the sum of its parts – something that had run true throughout the entirety of her time as a Guardian, but it had been enchanting to see it working so well in person. 

When it finally came time for her to present her works, she had gone to one of the other Cryptarchs, not to decode an engram, but for them to look at the emergent code in the small hand-sized orb she had created. They had passed her forward and up until she was presenting it to Rahool, who found that the combination of Light, engineering, and the confluence of tech that had gone into it made it far, far easier for even the least of the Cryptarchs to decode engrams easier. Some Guardians had even been given prototypes of her work to use in the field, to see if they could force engrams to be decoded on the fly, instead of having to wait. 

But that work had been rewarded, and she bore the favor of the Cryptarchs and a few new pieces of equipment. And now, her two partners were here, to celebrate, with a picnic outside the boundaries of the Last City. 

Shera couldn’t stop her smile, and didn’t want to anyway. She was happy. Proud her work had been acknowledged, happy that everything she had been working on had been validated by the people she had looked up to for a while herself. 

Cayde laughed and pulled her across, halfway into his lap solar-light so he could press little Solar-Light kisses to her hair. Slightly too warm, but not so much that it would burn her. Just something Cayde did to make up for his lack of more organic lips to kiss her with. It was one of his many workarounds to being no-longer organic. Andal and Shera both had their own ways to return the favor, especially when Cayde felt a little left out. Shera melted into him, accepting the affection with a delighted sigh. 

Across from them, Andal lounged, relaxed and loose, smiling crookedly at both of them. Shera crinkled her nose at him as Cayde nuzzled further into Shera’s hair. Food was nearly ready, and it was with more than a little bit of overdone pouting from the Exo, Shera pulled away from Cayde to go sit down with her food, carefully and quickly making her ramen the way she preferred. Andal and Cayde both did the same, and their gentle conversations faded out in favor of eating. 

A comfortable silence fell over them, and the sun sunk lower. Twilight twinkled, and in the distance, the lights of the Last City shone. As each of them finished, they curled closer to each other, outting the food and leftovers to the side, out of their way. Shera ended up in the middle of the two Hunters, both of them having shirked their cloaks so as to not get them tangled up with each other. That had happened before, and while it was kind of amusing, it was also not necessarily what they wanted to have happened. 

Andal pillowed Shera’s head on his arm, and Cayde curled up under Shera’s arm on the other side. Cayde purred when she started toying with some of the wires in his neck, wiggling closer to her as they slowly waited for full dark to fall. 

Dozing, she let the conversation that Cayde and Andal were having wash over her. Listening to two Hunters, one the current Vanguard, and one the one who preceded him, have any sort of conversation was very enjoyable. The two of them had been friends for a long, long while, and in the years when Andal had been gone, Cayde had had plenty of adventures. Whether all of them were exactly true as he said them, well, that was always the source of the debates. 

Shera wisely pretended to be a little more asleep than she actually was to make sure she didn’t get dragged into the discussion at hand. Cayde had done plenty of very intense and madcap things during the Red War but as to whether or not he had done  _that_ specific thing while being trapped on Nessus, well, Shera didn’t know and really preferred hearing Andal get worked up over it instead. 

“Failsafe is _nice_, they would _never_, Cayde, you take that back!”

“What do you _**mean**_, she’s like - “

“She cried when she thought you were dead!” 

“Who told you that?”

And on and on it went, Shera struggling to keep herself from smiling overmuch, because otherwise, they’d catch on and needle her for listening in on the conversation. Their flirtations were always so, so endearing. 

Especially when they flirted with each other. It was cute. 

Her smile was more than a little too wide to go without notice for too long, but when Cayde elbowed her in the ribs in time with one of his jests at Andal’s expense, she burst out laughing. Both of the them laughed with her, Andal gathering her up into his arms and pressing a quick series of kisses to her cheek and jaw. Cayde curled into her back, nuzzling the back of her neck and chuckling. 

“You’re too cute, Shera, just _too_ cute,” Cayde said with another low laugh. 

She reached back to grab Cayde’s hand with hers and pull it to her hip. He gently cupped her waist, humming under his breath happily. They stayed like that, twined together, around each other, curled into a puddle of affection, until full dark fell, and Andal, with a sigh, looked away from kissing Shera, up to the clear night sky. 

“Oh, the stars are out tonight, wow,” he said, a little awed. 

Shera looked up from where she had been, to the sky, rolling onto her back as Cayde did the same. Overhead, the night sky opened up. With the lights of the Last City casting only the slightest bit of brightness over the high walls, the skies overhead was lit with the great number of stars and satellites and the aurora that had been more and more apparent ever since the Traveler had awoken once again. 

With a contented sigh, she relaxed into Andal and let her gaze go a little vacant. It was her favorite way to stargaze, with her eyes ever so slightly unfocused as the aurora produced by the Light of the Traveler slowly unwinding its way through the universe made itself more pronounaced. As a Voidwalker, especially one who had been attuned to the Light for so long, throughout all of what had happened, when her gaze unfocused, when she relaxed into it all, flickers of Light danced across her field of view, forming fractals and patterns too profound for even the Osirians to make sense of.

Not that Brother Vance did much stargazing anyway.

At her side, Cayde purred up at the stars, his Exo eyes far more adept at looking across long distances. Whatever it was that he saw, she knew that he would never really have the words for it. The Solar Light, across all these distances, with the interference of the aurora of the Traveler, she was almost certain made something _profound_ appear to him. With all of the great processing power he had, and his own particular skill with words, whatever it was that Cayde saw pulled contented, awed sighs from him at intermittent intervals. 

Andal, by contrast, seemed far more interested, as in his usual way, in watching the both of them enjoy the night sky. He had propped himself up on one elbow, looking between the two of them, gently caressing them, each in turn, not in a way to distract them from what they were doing, but just in appreciation of their individual ways of observing the world around them. 

There were moments, where one of them caught out something in particular – Cayde saw a shooting star bleeding scarlet and royal purple in equal parts, and traced its path across the sky for Shera to look at, her eyes dazzled by Void-Light, and a few minutes later, with an incredibly exuberant cry, Shera shot up out of Andal’s arms to point out a particularly hard-to-see constellation that was just barely peeking up over the lip of the luminous pool of the Traveler’s light, devolving into a long soliloquy on the importance of that particular constellation. It was very important – the Eliksni had used it as a primary navigation point in their slow crawl through this solar system, as, according to them, it was in the direction that they had been thrown from in the Whirlwind. 

Cayde and Andal both listened, raptly, grinning ever so often at each other as Shera went into the fullest extent of the exhibition of being a Warlock. She talked, jumping from one topic to the next, diving into the intricacies of the piece of Eliksni technology that she had been working on originally, and how it too, had once been used as a navigator’s tool, until the Whirlwind had forced the Eliksni to scrap, reuse and retrofit all of their technology into whatever they could manage to make that would be more useful to them in the _ now_ of their lives. 

Shera, like many Warlocks, had a gift for speaking, and with an attentive audience of two, slowly started working her way through a few of the other Eliksni constellations that dotted the sky. None of them, or the histories she knew were older than the Whirlwind itself, as the Eliksni had been from far, far from this system. Oftentimes, any of their classical constellations would simply be unviewable from the angle that they were observing from – the three dimensionality of space itself acting as a warping effect on the stars positions as viewed from this distance. 

And of course, Shera found herself working into the fun mental puzzle hole of figuring out which of the classic constellations she could even see pieces of, let alone try and imagine the actual shape, form, and function of. Just knowing the name of the constellation did little to nothing for her, because she did not know how many stars were involved in it, and the shape of constellations as signified by the stars that actually made them up varied widely. 

“Really, it’s fascinating how _much_ you can glean from a culture’s methods and mindset by just looking at their constellations – where one person may see a hunter, another would see a drum. The relative length of time in the sky influences one culture’s interpretations of the importance of the constellation, but not another culture’s. The position in the sky relative to whatever most important constellation or celestial body – again, important to some, not important to either. The stars exist in great many varied infinite combinations and recombinations – there are, quite simply, more constellations that are possible to exist without even needing to bring in the diverting thoughts of three dimensionality and relativistic constructions and -”

She stopped, looking back over her shoulder to where Cayde had pillowed his head on Andal’s shoulder, and Andal was beaming at her, his nose crinkling up like it did whenever he had found something particularly cute. 

“Oh. I’ve been talking for a while, haven’t I?”

“Quite yes, but it was so much fun, it’s hard to ask you to stop, Shera,” Andal said with a broad grin and a motion for her to continue. 

Cayde made a simultaneous gesture, for her to come lay back down between the two of them, which she did with a happy sigh. She was not embarrassed – she had no reason to be. She trusted that Andal and Cayde both had been telling her the truth about how much they had enjoyed things, and that meant that really, all she had to do was decide if she still wanted to continue. 

Her chosen topic of conversation _ was_ kind of interesting to her, and she had just won an award for exactly this sort of line of thinking _. _ There was no harm in continuing, for just a bit longer. Maybe a bit more than a bit longer. 

Wiggling to get herself comfortable between the bodies of the two Hunters, Shera looked back up at the sky, her eyes full of Void-Light once again. With a happy sigh, she scanned the stars for a place where she could pick back up again, thinking of examples and counter-examples and all sorts of fun ways to deconstruct the idea she had built up in her head. As she was wont to do, she fell into something of a quiet pattern, in contrast to her previous nearly-but-not-quite chatterboxing as she worked on remaking the thought process she had had. 

Just as she was sure she had the words, and knew what it was that she was going to want to say, and to who, and how, Cayde leaned over and pressed a pleasantly over-warm kiss to her temple. 

Almost indignantly, her thought process disturbed by her boyfriend’s affection, Shera turned to face him more fully, huffing a puff of air at him and pouting. 

“Not fair, Cayde, I-”

Andal chose that moment to strike, leaning in to brush hair off the back of her neck and press his lips to the curl of her shoulder. A shiver ran through her body. Andal was noticeably cooler than Cayde, but that was only because Cayde ran nearly so hot as to burn if you weren’t used to him. Andal’s breath tickled behind her ear, deepening the tremble that hummed in her spine. 

“A-_ah!-_Andal,” Shera mumbled, her tongue failing her as Cayde, taking the cue, swept in, catching her mouth with his. 

His tongue, a vanity that he had afforded himself eons ago and had spent quite the bit of time getting used to in the interim, languorously laved at her lips, begging for entry that Shera, with a performative and not even close to convincing sigh, gave him easily. 

Andal’s hands found her hip, as did Cayde’s. She felt them lace their fingers there, and then, in tandem, take turns tightening their grips and pulling her back and forth. It made a soothing rocking motion. Or, at least, it would have been far more soothing if Andal wasn’t trailing his blunt teeth up her neck, following the well-known paths of her pleasure to the burl of bone behind her ear, where he gently suckled, as Cayde did the same to her lower lip. 

Trapped between the two greatest Hunters that the Last City had ever seen, Shera knew so, so much better than to put up more than the token fight that both of them wanted. They were trailblazers of pleasure, always seeking another way, a better way, a known way that could be diverted to the unknown way to make her cry out their names in bliss. If she made it too easy, they would...well it was never anything bad, they just sulked about not being able to do their best because she wasn’t challenging them. 

Luckily for them, Shera enjoyed the small challenges, the way she arched her back just  **so** to keep Andal from being able to bite at that spot unless he shifted a bit, the way she tilted her head down just  _ ever _ so slightly so that Cayde had to slide down a bit on the blanket so he could still get an angle on her mouth. Small things, not even really as much as she had ever done to toy with either of them before, but this night wasn’t about this. 

This night - 

“This is all for you, Shera,” Cayde purred against her mouth, still kissing her. One of the greatest things about the way an Exo like him was put together was that there was no reason to be worried about him speaking with his mouth full.

Which was a good thing, because Cayde was purposefully kissing lower and lower down her body, starting by dropping his kisses to gentle presses of his mouth-plates to her chin, then to the softness of her throat, never biting too-hard, even though Shera knew that he could snap his mouth shut with enough force to shear metal. The thought never frightened her, only thrilled her. Cayde had never once hurt her, or Andal, but he could, and that danger was just another facet to a Guardian’s life. 

Behind her, Andal’s hands were working at undoing the clasps that held her robes together. Cleverly, they had her turned so that the clasps, which were on her left side, were available to him to pluck at and deftly, undo. Two Hunters could set up all sorts of dastardly things, and Shera wasn’t surprised that she had already been maneuvered into a position that let them do as they liked. 

Andal’s mouth worked into a smile she could feel, even when it was pressed against the back of her neck as he got her robes worked loose. His rough fingertips, scarred and callused from years of work, years of life, and death, and rebirth, skated across the soft, sensitive skin of her hipbones. The sensation, familiar after this time, was still a delicious one. Especially as Cayde worked lower again, pressing his mouth to her collarbones as his hands carefully cupped her breasts, before gently gliding down her ribs, pressing his thumbs in ever so slightly on the small divot between the false and real ribs of her ribcage. 

That spot, sensitive as ever, drew a soft gasp from Shera, the instinctive arch of her back pressing her ribs briefly harder against his hands. Andal grunted, softly, as that pushed her ass against his own hips, and responded with a half-instinctive roll of his hips, his hands working her fly open. 

Cayde, undeterred and inexorable, kept his slow pilgrimage down Shera’s body, kissing her with an unusual (for him) languor. Andal slowly peeled her robes open, not going so far as to try and undress her just yet, but, apparently, freeing up space and skin for Cayde to press his mouth to. He nipped, gently, at her hipbone as he took a hold of the hem of her pants, and with a movement that seemed entirely too practiced, despite being  _ very _ new to Shera, the two men turned her. Andal rolled onto his back, carefully pulling her with him, and Cayde flowed like water after them, helping Andal’s legs get situated on either side of her hips, settling Shera in place before gracefully moving between both of their legs. 

Shera was splayed out on top of Andal, pulled back over him, not pinned in, she could leave any time she wanted to, but why on  _ any _ planet would she  _ ever _ want to? 

Andal had his hands on her breasts, his thumbs sliding over her still-clothed nipples, with just enough force to be felt and appreciated, but not enough to really derive any sort of deep pleasure from. Then again, why would she need to derive anything, because Cayde was sliding her pants off her hips, then, with a cocky wink and a flourish, managed to get both of her boots and her pants off in a single movement. 

“Show-off,” Andal muttered in Shera’s ear, his voice full of warmth. 

He followed up by nipping at her earlobe, and then her neck, not minding the curtain of her blue-black hair draped across his face and neck. 

Her robes were splayed open, which, in the chill air of the night, gave her only wan protection from the cold. But Cayde’s too-warm hands were on her thighs, gently pulling them wider, hitching her legs up over Andal’s knees, giving her every opportunity to move away. Shera didn’t want to. No, as Andal spread his legs, and thereby, hers, and Cayde’s hands on her thighs, and his mouth leaning in, Shera felt her body warming up. Even attuned to the Void as she was, the heat of Cayde, and the growing arousal in her meant that the chill hardly seemed important. 

Cayde removed his gloves, and Shera couldn’t help the gasp when his bared plates and synth-weave flesh made contact with her skin. Nearly hot enough to burn, but ever so careful to never, never do so, Cayde ran his hands down her thighs, to the crux of her hips. Carefully, with the great delicacy of a man who could crush blaststeel in his fist, he leaned up to run his fingers down her slit, in a pleasantly rhythmic pattern. He leaned in, resting his cheek on her thigh, looking up at her as Andal pet down her chest and throat, kissing her neck, her ear, her cheek. 

As Cayde got to work, fingering her gently, taking the time to take occasional nips at the thin and sensitive skin of her thighs, Andal mirrored him near perfectly, his own fingers toying at the gap in her collar at her throat, biting a little harder than Cayde was nipping at her thighs, leaving almost-bruises in his path. 

Shera, for her part, was trying, in vain, to keep herself quiet. It was not like in the Last City, where everything was built on top of each other and having two amorous boyfriends could lead to situations where one had to be exceedingly quiet in order to not be found out. But old habits, died rather hard, and she wasn’t used to being able to really give proper vocalizations outside of one of their apartments. 

Which seemed to be rather the exact sort of challenge both of them were looking for. 

Cayde, with his usual huffing laugh, leaned up to bite at her hipbone. When Shera gasped, he took the opening, letting one of his fingers slide into her, a gentle, stroking “Come-hither” gesture inside her slick warmth. She shuddered, and Andal held her still when she tried to reach for Cayde’s horn. In exchange, she settled for reaching back to grab a fistful of Andal’s hair. 

“_Fuck_, Shera,” he hissed, his hips rocking up against her ass. 

Andal Brask  **definitely** had a thing for having his hair toyed with, and Shera’s absentminded grip tightened and relaxed in time with the slow thrusts of Cayde’s fingers inside of her, slackening nearly completely when his thumb rolled against her clit. Andal whimpered, pushing his head against her palm, his words momentarily lost to him in the seeking of more of that delicious pressure. 

Cayde, the most put together of the three of them in that moment, chuckled and pushed Shera up higher on Andal’s body. His fingers, just as deft as always, made short work of Andal’s fly as well, something which both Shera and Andal noted with varying levels of exasperation and arousal. 

Shera, now confident that she wasn’t going to be incapable of getting some manner of turnabout out of this, planted her feet on either side of Andal’s hips, keeping him pinned down as Cayde freed Andal’s cock and really went to work on both his partners. The hand covered in Shera’s slick moved to coquettishly teasing Andal’s cock, dragging across the head and shaft as his other hand came off Shera’s thigh, since she wasn’t trying to struggle to keep her legs half-closed anymore. 

Andal, already partially keyed up from Shera toying with his hair and the pressure of her on his chest, groaned, flexing his hips up, into Cayde’s touch, against Shera, suddenly a little more desperate for anything, everything. 

It was rare that Cayde was granted such control over the both of them, but...Shera was assisting him, a small smile on her lips that let him know that she was very much enjoying this particular play, and was intent upon helping him. She shifted her weight higher, freeing up Andal’s hips just a little bit, while making sure his shoulders were firmly pinned down to the ground beneath her. 

Cayde sighed, appreciatively, at the sight that Shera and Andal presented to him, posed like that. Andal’s cock jutted up, already weeping, in front of Shera’s already exposed slit. Oh, usually, this was something he never got to see – if Andal had her like this, she was about to be fucked, and that really wasn’t the point of what Cayde wanted right then. No, he wanted something else. 

He wrapped a hand around one of Andal’s thighs, pinning it down with all of his considerable strength. In a battle of strength between an Exo and an organic, the Exo was going to win, nine out of ten times. Cayde was not trying to hurt Andal in specific, just hold him down so that he couldn’t do what he knew Andal wanted to do. Shera, on top of him, continued her teasing, rocking her hips in the air, enticing Cayde to come closer, taunting Andal with feeling the movement, and Cayde with the fact that his mouth was not currently on her. 

With gusto, Cayde got to work, leaning up to lick Andal’s cock as his fingers slid down Shera’s thigh to her slit, gently probing her, stroking her clit with long, gentle movements as he mirrored the movement of his fingers with his tongue on Andal’s cock. Even though he was mostly certain that neither of them could really tell that that’s what was happening, it delighted Cayde to purposefully keep them both on the same rhythm. Because once they both started rocking their hips, they moved together, to the beat that Cayde dictated, slowly and carefully, teased and taunted by the Exo. He was trying his damndest to not be greedy, to be slow and careful and measured with his movements. Mostly because he almost could never manage that and doing so was almost certain to drive one or both of them to utter distraction. 

Distraction, arousal, whatever, it was all the same at that moment. Cayde loved the whimpering gasps he got from Andal as his slick synth-weave tongue moved over, around, and across Andal’s cock. Cayde had centuries of experience in getting Andal, off, and Shera, well, she was doing just fine, if her delighted mewls were anything to go off of. 

Andal was biting her shoulder in time to Cayde’s tongue’s movement across his cock, breathing harshly through his nose, struggling for air with Shera’s weight on his chest, and Cayde’s tongue doing its work. He was certain there would be bruises left behind on her shoulder and neck when he was done, but right then, his focus was definitely elsewhere. 

With her head thrown back, hanging off of Andal’s shoulder, and Cayde’s fingers deftly and confidently dragged her towards the precipice of pleasure, only to back off before she could fall over the edge. He leaned his head against her thigh, his horn helping him keep her legs from closing as he got back to work on both of his lovers. 

Andal, overstimulated from Shera’s weight and the movement of her body on his, and Cayde’s mouth on his cock, came first, scrambling to grab Shera’s hips and pull her down against his as he arched up. Cayde, with no need to breathe, handled the movement like a champion, moaning from his secondary speakerboxes in his chest. Handy trick with being an Exo. 

Nipping at Andal’s and Shera’s thighs in turn, Cayde waited for Andal to ride out his pleasure. To say he was pleased with himself was always a bit of an undersell, but he was trying to hide it as best he could by making sure his mouth was always occupied with kissing or biting as his fingers worked Shera close to her own peak. She, however, he did not let cum, not even as Andal’s hands slid down to join Cayde’s or as Cayde’s mouth descended on her slit, his slightly too long for anything  _ but _ fucking tongue winding around her clit. 

His tongue pulsed in time with the lazy way Andal ran his hand over Cayde’s horn. Andal’s thumb found the strip of sensitive plating, just along the back ridge of Cayde’s horn with the practiced focus and attentiveness of someone who had definitely, definitely had centuries of practice in exactly that. Granted, that sensitive spot did have some actual purpose and use, in battle it was useful, just trust him it wasn’t  _ only _ a sex thing, it just happened to also be really good as a sex thing. 

It also happened that it distracted Cayde to fuck, made his old, old pre-Guardianship wound in his left shoulder that he almost never thought about start to do the fuzzy staticky thing, and the weird coil of Exo-experienced arousal start to burn in his chest. 

Andal knew that, and Shera knew that, but Shera was a little distracted as Cayde’s fingers were inside of her again, and his tongue was gently, insistently laving and pushing at her clit. Her body rocked against Andal’s and Cayde’s combined grips kept her still. She strained against them, trying to take more, to demand more friction from Cayde or get Andal’s hands to move. But the combined skill and attention of the both of them had done the same thing it usually done – completely shut off her higher brain functions. No fancy Warlock Thoughts were in her mind just then, and while she could probably still recite a good number of the Treatises On Circles, everything else was just  _ gone _ in the tidal wave of pleasure that Andal and Cayde were pushing and pulling through her. 

And always, always, stopping her just before she could finally fall into her pleasure. 

Something she loved, do not misunderstand, Shera could never get enough of this exact sort of game of denial, because she knew that neither Cayde nor Andal would allow her to go unsatisfied for too long. It was just in the middle of it, when she was struggling to try and trick them into giving her just what she ached so keenly to have. 

It was impossible to trick two Hunter Vanguards though. Every time she tried to arch in a way to get Cayde’s fingers to touch that  _ one spot _ she just needed him to brush, just once, just a little bit for her to  _ finally _ get off, but every time she tried, Andal would pull her hips and Cayde would withdraw his fingers, just enough that she could taste the nearly-there sensation and not be allowed what she wanted. 

They both had the decency to not giggle or laugh at her, but that was more because both of them were Hunters who were entirely too into this exact act with her. In her ear, she could hear Andal panting her name, along with a half dozen old-Language curses as she rolled her hips and shifted her back against him. Between her legs, with his mouth occupied, Cayde was making full use of his chest-speakers instead of the ones in his throat as he ate her out with all of his usual exuberance and enjoyment. 

He too, had lost many of his words, and the ones that did grit out of his overtaxed processors were overblown with static, to nearly be completely unintelligible. 

Shera couldn’t parse much anyway, because the burning brand of Cayde’s arousal and hands inside of her, and Andal’s hands roving her chest as his mouth pressed insistent, desperate kisses to her neck and ear. 

“Cayde, I can’t take this anymore, you have to fuck her, please Cayde, fuck her,” Andal begged. 

It felt overloud in Shera’s ear, but she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he was whispering. He just happened to be whispering the one thing she really wanted to happen. 

With a groan that could  _ only _ mean that Cayde had heard and understood, he nodded, his mouth still pressed up against her. 

Andal pushed Shera up off of him, hissing at the sudden relative  _ heat _ of the air that rushed in. He, like so many other people forgot that the Void existed to sap heat, and had not noticed how much Shera was radiating the cold to combat the burning in him until she was gone. The night air felt  _ hot _ against his skin. 

Relatively boneless, guided only by how Cayde shifted his mouth up to catch hers, pulling her forward, off of Andal’s hips, over their tangle of legs, into Cayde’s lap, Shera followed along. Blindly, whimpering for release, she laced her fingers with Cayde’s. This would have complicated Cayde getting his pants off enough for his cock to be freed, had Andal not been there. 

They had done this before. They had loved like this before. 

Andal helped Shera into position, pressing apologetic kisses to the bruises he had left across her pale blue neck and throat. They were already rising, angry blotches of that concentrated inner Light of the Awoken, spiderwebbing outward. He wished it didn’t look as pretty as it did, but it looked  _ exceptionally _ pretty. He could only kiss where he had so recently been biting and hope the apology was accepted. 

Straddling Cayde, held up by one of his hands, and Andal’s arm around her waist, Shera slowly and carefully lowered herself down on Cayde’s cock. 

A strangled cry ripped out of her mouth as he filled her. Her head rocked back, and Andal was there, as he had been before, bracing her, supporting her. Cayde only made wheezing, staticking gasps, his hands fidgeting, tightening and then relaxing by the barest, ratcheting amounts as he tried to process it all without hurting Shera or crushing her fingers in his grasp. It didn’t matter that the Light would heal them – in the Red War, they had all learned the folly of expecting the Traveler to do everything for them. But he tried, struggling with the need to thrust and take and claim and the want to be gentle, to be good, to be what Shera needed in that moment. 

“Good, good boy, Cayde,” Andal said, reaching down with his free hand to stroke Cayde’s thigh, carefully dipping his fingers in the seams of the plates to stroke the heavy wiring that made up the Exo’s muscle. 

This time, the sound Cayde made as Shera slowly rolled her hips against him was a shrieking whine. Shera, atop him, chuckled, finding her pace and focus now that she was not being taunted and was the one properly in control again. Behind her, Andal laughed lightly, leaning in to whisper something to Shera. 

She laughed, fully, bodily, enough to shake her and send Cayde into another fit of fumbling to keep from grabbing her too hard,. He threw his head back, his horn gouging into the ground as his vocal processors ground into overdrive, whining, all but throwing sparks out as they tried, in vain, to emit every desperate sound that Cayde was making in that moment. 

That was, of course, when Shera planted her hands on his chest and pulsed the absolute  _ **cold** _ of the Void through him, driving all of the Solar Light out of him in a burst before it all came rushing back in. 

Cayde screamed in overwhelmed, overstimulated pleasure, thrusting just once up into Shera, his hips arching off the ground before Andal slid his hand down his thigh and held him down. Andal’s hand found the familiar position, sandwiched between Shera’s thigh and Cayde’s hip to keep Cayde from moving too much. 

With a whimper, Cayde acquiesced, and Shera, giggling still, went back to toying with their Lights in the way only a Warlock could, twisting and manipulating the Void through her and Cayde and Andal all. Both men gasped, whimpered, and gave themselves over to the manipulation of Light through them all. 

Words did not matter, and were not possible anyway.  All three of them gave themselves over to the ebb and flow of the Light that moved them. Shera was, of a technicality, in command of it, but only inasmuch as that she knew what it was that was happening. 

How to _ command _ something like this? 

Oh. Who knew. 

No one. 

It happened and they gave their all to it, Arc, Solar, Void, all flowing, mixing, ebbing, withdrawing, moving,  _ demanding _ of the three of them. 

Vaguely, in a way that dissociated sense from physicality, Shera knew her hips were moving, that Cayde was thrusting into her as Andal ran his hands across both their bodies, as best he could. She knew that whatever pleasure she felt was being echoed in the Light that burned, and cooled, and electrified her. She knew all these things were true, as she knew when Cayde’s orgasm – her orgasm – Andal’s orgasm –  _ their _ orgasms all came over them, in a rush of pleasure that threatened to tear her mind from her body. 

  


  


It was a time before her senses returned to her. 

The mountains around them still carried the echoes of their combined passions, and Shera only barely realized that somehow, they had made their way back to the center of the blanket they had been on originally. Cayde still had sod impaled on the tip of his horn, and Andal was panting against the still-warm bruises on her neck. 

She hoped the Traveler would not take those from her too soon. 

The chill of the night air, different than the touch of the Void, settled on her sweat-glistening skin, and overhead, starlight still filtered through the aurora of the Traveler. Fractals of impossible maths and infinite equations flickered in the aurora, but Shera blinked them away. If she let herself think about that just then, she would be too distracted to enjoy the way Cayde curled up under her arm, pressing his dirty horn to her chest. She didn’t mind. She never minded. 

Andal had his cloak off and was using it as a blanket for himself and half of Shera. Which was more than what she needed with Cayde next to her, radiating the suffusing, contented, too-warm heat of a Solar-touched Exo. 

Vaguely, part of her thought that they should set a watch. That they should be careful. That they could be in danger, that something could come find them. 

But Andal purred her name, and mumbled something about having already set something up to watch for them, and Cayde just sighed something so overblown with static that it could have been  _ anything _ , but it sounded mostly like her full name. 

Shera, comfortable, satisfied, staring up at the sky as both of her boyfriends cuddled close to her, found that whatever it was that bothered her, it was not so much a bother as it seemed to be. She was safe, held by two of the most beautiful men she had ever had the chance to see. 

Overhead, the stars that had shone for ages, whose every day was no longer as certain as it had been before the Red War, whose every twinkle and glitter was in defiance of a universe of Darkness, kept watch over the Guardians. Little Lights, so far from them, so far from what could cast Light over every dark shadow, under the protection of the Traveler from far-off places. 

They slept, content, comfortable, and momentarily free from the battles that had raged and would burn once more. 

But. 

Right then. 

None of it mattered. 

None of it mattered, but the three of them. 


End file.
